


Just a Little Longer

by Henry_Sturges_to_Henry_Lincoln



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Discouragement, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 22:43:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5023408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Henry_Sturges_to_Henry_Lincoln/pseuds/Henry_Sturges_to_Henry_Lincoln
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After fleeing WICKD, the group struggles through the Scorch. Thomas can't help but noticing Newt falling farther and farther behind as Winston's condition gets worse and worse. When they settle in for the night, he gets his answers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Little Longer

**Author's Note:**

> Just another one-shot; thought this up while watching the movie!! 
> 
> *I own nothing and no one, just the idea!*

The sand whipped mercilessly at Thomas' face; he could feel the fine sand cutting his dry skin. This was a nightmare. However, with Winston in bad shape and the others in risk; he knew he couldn't stop. 

That was, until, he panicked momentarily, thinking he lost Newt. He spotted him, way at the back. He didn't seem in pain, just seemed... Slow. 

Thomas knew they needed to settle for the night and he knew he needed to talk to Newt. Even with the ex-Runner being injured permanently with that limp, Newt kept good pace. There was something wrong. 

They found a large formation of solid rock with the slightest depression in the surface opposite from where the sand was hitting. It was perfect. Everyone, even Minho, seemed relieved they were resting. Newt crammed himself right up against the shallow cave and laid right down, silently. Also odd. Teresa plopped down with a heavy sigh and Thomas crawled in next to Newt. 

Minho leaned forward to Thomas and whispered; "What's wrong with him?" 

Ever since Thomas and Newt got together, Minho just assumed they knew everything about each other, 24/7. Thomas shrugged, "I was gonna figure that out, but there's not much privacy." 

Minho looked around briefly, "Up ahead, more rocks." he looked back at Thomas and winked, "I think Teresa and I could give you some space." 

Thomas smiled at them, Teresa seeming to be glad to have Newt cheered up, thankfully and they jogged that way. Thomas turned to Newt. Newt sighed, a slight puff of sand twirling to life on the momentum of Newt's breath before dying out and floating back to the earth where it had originated. "I'm guessin' ya sent them away to talk to me," Newt said. 

Thomas nodded, "I did," he said matter-of-factly. 

Newt sighed again, "There's nothing to tell, Tommy, I'm fine," he said, attempting to roll over and turn his back on Thomas. 

Thomas grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. Then gripped his arms and sat him up, Newt didn't fight it. He didn't have the will to. 

Then it clicked. 

"You're giving up," Thomas whispered, heart breaking. 

Newt gave him a sharp look and for a moment, just a moment, Newt's mischievous, defiant spark was in his eyes- the one Thomas had come to know and love so well. But it vanished within a second. "I never said that." he said. 

"You didn't have to," Thomas said, moving his hands up and holding Newt's face in his hands. Newt's eyes were so sad and broken. "Please don't give up, Newt. I need you, or I can't do this. And I need you as you've always been." 

Newt didn't say anything. So Thomas continued. 

"Why the sudden change of heart?" 

He barely got the words out before Newt replied, whatever emotion and fight he had left spilling into his words, "I'm so damn tired!" he yelled, jerking his face away from Thomas' hands, "I'm just... so tired," he said weakly now, "... of watching the only family I have die." his voice cracked. 

Thomas frowned; this was about Winston. Thomas studied Newt's face. Suddenly, Newt sniffled and his jaw locked, lips quivering. Thomas' heart skipped a beat; Newt crying, legitimately crying, was not something Thomas had seen. And when the tears came, Thomas couldn't stay away. He scooted forward and wrapped his arms around Newt, pulling him against him and holding him tighter than he'd ever held anyone, "Newt," he whispered, "I'm so sorry." 

Sniffles and suppressed hiccups suddenly turned into loud sobs and cries. Newt's limp arms eventually clung onto the back of Thomas' shirt and he sobbed messily into Thomas' shoulder. And not for a second did Thomas loosen his grip. He let Newt hurt. Because if he tried to stop this now, he'd go numb. Thomas had been there, only for minutes, but those minutes of his life were terrible. He'd do whatever it took to keep Newt away from that. 

They sat there, tangled in each other for a long time, Newt sobbing. When the sun had finally disappeared, so had Newt's tears. He'd dropped one arm, weakly gripping Thomas' shirt with nothing more than his index finger and thumb, but somehow managed to not let the fabric slip away. Newt's head rested on Thomas' shoulder, he sniffled occasionally. Thomas could only imagine what kind of headache Newt had right now. 

"I don't want to give up," Newt mumbled after a long time, his voice raspy and weak, "but I don't know how to keep going." 

"Think about me. Think about Minho and Teresa. Think about how much you love us; cause that's what you have to do. I did that, after Chuck. And now... I have the same hope as I've always had. You just have to cherish what you've got left." Thomas said, not missing a beat. 

Newt held onto that pinch of fabric just a little tighter, "Okay," he paused, "I love you," he said, more emotion than Thomas had ever heard or thought possible to carry in words. 

Thomas held him still, "I love you too, Newt." he said, trying to match it. 

After awhile, the exhaustion crying left in its wake took Newt, and he fell asleep in Thomas' arms. Thomas slowly shuffled deeper in the makeshift shelter and slowly laid on his back, still hugging Newt, making the boy lay on him. Thomas studied him for awhile. pushing hair off his damp cheeks and out of his red, puffy eyes. He watched a calm expression, a safe one. One he hadn't had a chance to see since in the Glade, in the Homestead, where he found himself first falling in love. 

That felt like a hundred years ago. But if they could last a hundred years, through miserable conditions and ever-changing, dangerous situations- if they could last through death and misery- they could last through anything. 

"You and I, Newt.' Thomas thought, sleep creeping up on him, 'we can make it.'


End file.
